I watched with bated breath as she slowly, cautiously reached her hand toward that silky black thong. Without breaking eye contact with me, she used a few fingers to carefully pull the fabric sideways into the crease of her thigh.
I shifted my gaze to stare at her exposed pussy lips. Although I had obviously seen them before when I ate her out, I had never seen them look so vulnerable — not like they did now, positioned perfectly over my cock.
I glanced up. Her beautiful breasts were trembling with nervous hesitation and arousal.
We stared at each other for the longest time, both knowing the unspoken decision that needed to be made.
I was no longer envisioning what could go wrong — all I could think about was how incredible it would feel. How much I wanted it. How much she wanted it.
I nodded… just once.
That one nod of my head was all that she needed.
She grabbed my cock.
She lined it up. I watched her aim it with precision.
She slowly lowered her body down.
She closed the gap until my tip was touching her again… but this time, there was no fabric in the way.
My first contact with her warm, wet flesh sent shivers throughout my entire body. It felt like I was about to lose my virginity all over again.
She used two of her well-manicured fingers to spread her lips further apart.
And then — as I held my breath — she did it.
She impaled herself.
I watched in delirious ecstasy as inch… by inch… by inch… by inch of my adulterous cock slowly disappeared into my sister’s gorgeous, tight, inviting, and astoundingly satisfying pussy.
“Ohhh fuuuucckkk…” we both groaned simultaneously. Perhaps it was a bit too loud, but in that moment, I didn’t care. If we got caught, so what. It was worth it. This was heaven. I was inside my beautiful sister. It felt like home.
+++++++
— Saturday morning. Day 12 of quarantine.
Neither of us got any real sleep that final night of her stay — those hours were consumed by the most intense sex that I had ever experienced.
We might’ve taken 2 or 3 breaks to lay down together, but those didn’t last very long before we went at it again. At one point, she told me that she wanted me to fuck her so raw that she couldn’t walk normal for a week. It seemed that could be a real possibility.
I lost track of how many orgasms each of us had.
We fucked each other in virtually every sex position that I had ever known — and experimented with some new ones for which I didn’t even know a name. I pounded her doggy-style on the steps leading upstairs… we connected intimately in a lotus position on top of the bed… I fingered her to an orgasm while I laid on top of her and fucked her mouth… we screwed each other against the wall like upstanding citizens. My Fitbit screamed at me as it surpassed benchmark after benchmark of hot, sweaty, high-intensity workout.
Perhaps one of the most adrenaline-pumping moments came when my sister convinced me to sneak upstairs with her around 3am. Proudly laying her naked body down on top of our dining room table and spreading her nylon-clad legs wide open, she invited me to eat her out as a late-night snack.
I nibbled and licked and munched on her delectable grapefruit until its inner juice released… and then for dessert, I pulled her hips to the edge of the table and fucked her warm apple pie until it gained a special cream filling.
Her beautiful cunt was the most delicious thing that I had ever tasted on that table… and the sinful pleasure of our risky meal was wildly amplified by knowing that my wife was sleeping unaware in the bedroom no more than 30 feet away.
When we eventually dismounted and tiptoed our naked selves back downstairs, I remembered what my sister had said a few days earlier: that we should keep the idea of fucking each other “off the table.” I reminded her of that, and then playfully remarked, “I guess we decided to fuck each other on the table instead.” She punched my arm… and told me the next sex position she wanted to try.
Ironically, it was to that very table that my wife invited us to come up and eat breakfast together on the morning of my sister’s departure. Once seated, I couldn’t’ help but notice that my wife’s hands were resting at about the same spot where my sister’s juicy ass had been pressed only a few hours earlier. My sister and I furtively exchanged a quick knowing glance. Ahh… memories.
As we finished eating, my wife offered a genuine apology to my sister: “I’m sorry that this visit was so strange — thank you for graciously submitting to my paranoia. I’m glad that neither of you got really sick. You’ll just have to come again soon!”
Without missing a beat, my sister responded enthusiastically, “Oh, I love cumming here!”
I nearly spit out my coffee.
My naïve wife, of course, had simply heard that word as “coming.” My sister wanted to continue this little game of hidden innuendo. Turning to me, my sister then exclaimed: “You know what I just realized?? We never got to play with those toys you were telling me about!”
I glared at her with a death stare. I could feel the redness creeping up into my cheeks.
Innocently, my wife asked me, “What toys?”
My sister intervened with a semi-honest diversion: “Can you believe it… your husband was actually going to share his toys with me? A big brother actually sharing his toys with his little sister? When does that ever happen?!?”
My wife chuckled. “True. Our kids hardly ever share their toys.”
We were talking on such different wavelengths, it was practically comical. I joined the game. Addressing my sister, I offered: “Maybe, if you’re a good girl, I’ll give you one of those toys for your birthday in a couple months.”
“Oooh!” she squealed with overly dramatic, yet also genuine, delight. She followed that up by asking two loaded questions: “What do I have to do to be a good girl? And will you deliver that gift to me in person?”
I thought of the perfect double-meaning response to her second question: “Oh yes, definitely — I think I’d almost have to give it to you in person.”
My sister smiled knowingly at me. My wife thought nothing of it.
We had more than an hour before we needed to leave for the airport, but my sister suddenly announced, “Well, we should probably get going… I like to get to the airport early, and you never know what we might bump into along the way.”
I was about to object… until it suddenly dawned on me what my sister really meant. I smiled as I envisioned what — or better yet, who — I would be “bumping into” along the way. I eagerly wondered what she might have in mind for the how.
“Ok, sure — let’s hit the road!” Quite rapidly, I had become fully convinced of the need for an immediate departure. I stood up without hesitation.
When my sister stood up from the dining room table, however, she did so more gingerly — the achiness and stiffness in her body betrayed her.
Noticing the mild grimace on my sister’s face, my wife asked her: “Are you okay?
“Yeah, I’m fine,” my sister responded calmly. “Must’ve slept weird last night.”
I chuckled to myself and shook my head. If my sister had somehow been forced to tell the truth, her answer might’ve been something like: No, I’m not okay… I’m sore from getting fucked raw by your husband all over your house last night.